


Between stars

by Jessibelle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Boba Fett is King, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Mentions of Slavery, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post season 2 of The Mandalorian, Reader-Insert, Sexy Times, Smut, Soft Boba Fett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessibelle/pseuds/Jessibelle
Summary: A year of getting to know Boba Fett after he rescues you from slavery leads to you in his bed.18+ readers only. HERE BE SMUT. After the fluff...
Relationships: Boba Fett/Original Character(s), Boba Fett/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 19





	Between stars

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut work for a very long time, and the first I've ever felt brave enough to post.
> 
> And of course its of my original mask kink daddy, Boba Fett.
> 
> Warning for overuse of the word cunt.
> 
> Completely un-beta'd. As if I'd let my husband read this...
> 
> May change the title at a future date, not 100% on it, but for now it'll do.

* * *

Even the first time you saw him, you loved the way Boba sat on his throne. He didn’t sit primly like a high-born lord, he wasn’t one. He didn’t slouch in disinterest, he knew he belonged there. As such he lounged, taking up as much space on the stone dais as he possibly could, exuding confidence, a leg over one of the arms of the throne, relaxing in a play-boy look. It was fucking sexy.

The captain of your rag-tag group of miscreants had decided everyone on the crew was going to pay tribute to the new crime lord of Tatooine, and so everyone had. That had been a mistake on your captains part. Trying to get in Fett’s good books by bringing him a couple of slave girls. He obviously hadn’t heard about Fett’s stance on slavery, and when he had motioned you forward with the two Twi'lek’s chains in your hand it didn’t escape your notice that Fett’s hand curled into a fist.

You weren’t really a part of the crew, not with your own collar around your neck. A slave to keep the other slaves in line. Sure you had your own little bunk, a sense of privacy, but you could never leave. Not when the Captain liked to remind you that he owned you. Bought and paid for you.

You bowed to Fett and tugged gently on the chains to make the Twi'lek’s do the same as your captain mirthfully said “A couple of new girls for you Lord Fett. A gift from me to you!”

Fett had stood at that and made his way off the dais. The eyes of everyone in he room watching him. His dark visor hadn’t looked towards you and the girls as he passed. Instead he stopped a few meters in front of the Captain.

“Is this typical of your normal cargo?” he had asked.

Your Captain had smiled brightly and responded “Only the very best slaves and dancing girls on my ship!”

Fett had nodded at that, then turned and taken two steps away before blaster fire rained down on the crew from the dais. The Twi'lek’s with you had shrieked and curled up into little balls, making themselves as small a target as possible. You had jumped in front of them, curling over them protectively, trying to shield their bodies with your own.

The blaster fire ceased after only a few seconds, although it had felt like hours. Your Captain was on the floor, gasping for breath and clutching at his chest where a blaster bolt had struck him. The rest of the crew were all dead already, or well on their way to being so. There must have been an army hidden in the shadows behind the throne.

Fett stood over your dying Captain and pressed a boot into his stomach making the man groan in pain. Fett didn’t even bother looking at the man who clawed at his foot, his attention instead on the other people in the room.

“If anyone wasn’t already aware, I don’t deal in slaves. Anyone who tries to do so here will meet the same fate as this shabuir.”

He had then quickly drawn his blaster and shot your Captain in the head. You had made sure that the two girls in your arms didn’t see it, but you couldn’t draw your eyes away. As such you saw Fett turn his helmet to you and your charges. He swaggered towards you, his visor trained on your face. You felt colour creep up your face as he came to a halt in front of you.

“Were there any others on the transport with you?” he asked.

Your chest felt tight, and it took you a moment before you found you could answer. “We… they picked up six in total from Ryloth a week ago.” you stammered.

Fett’s helmet looked into the dark behind his throne as he called out “Shand!”

A strong feminine voice answered simply “On it!”

There was movement and you saw a figure in black heading out towards where the transport ship was parked. Fett had then extended his gloved hand out to you. “Lets get you three to the med-bay and see about getting those collars off.”

So your collars had been removed, and you and the Twi’lek’s had been freed. Fett had insisted that everyone get seen by the med-droids. One of the male Twi’lek’s from the ship was in a bad way, having put up a fight with the crew that had taken him captive. Of the seven slaves, you were in the best condition. A little malnourished and underweight, as well as a slight lung infection as a result of having nothing to keep warm with in the cold of space, but overall you were in pretty good shape. After a week long stay at the med-bay Fett came by to visit you and your Twi’lek companions. He offered them a ship that they could use to get home to Ryloth, or they could stay here on Tatooine under his employ. The Twi'lek's all elected to go home, but you didn’t belong on Ryloth. You were human after all. You didn’t even know what planet you had been born on. So you stayed back from the group as they celebrated being able to return to their families.

You didn’t notice Fett sidle over to you until you heard his deep baritone voice. “What about you, little one? What are you going to do with your freedom?”

You looked up at Fett, seeing you reflection distorted on his dark visor.

“I don’t know.” you shrugged “I was born a slave, I’ve never known my family, nowhere to call home.”

Fett hummed as he thought. “You’re more than welcome to stay here cyar’ika. I’m sure we could find you something to do.”

And so you had stayed. Sure Tatooine wasn’t the best, the heat made you feel a little sick at times. And living in a palace that had once belonged to Jabba the Hutt was a little disconcerting to say the least. But you slowly began to see it as home, or some semblance of home. Certainly somewhere you felt safe.

After a few weeks Shand came to you and explained that they had commandeered a vessel that was full of slaves, and Fett wanted you to help with their transition into the life of the free. She had handed you a data-pad explaining that all the information was on there. You had babbled as she waved you off before you shouted “Shand! I… I can’t read.” Your former masters (any of them) had never bothered teaching you to read or write, it was just another way to keep you in their grasp. Shand had raised an eyebrow at your confession and just nodded before taking the data-pad back and informing you that the transport would be arriving the next day and she would collect you before it landed.

When the ship landed the next day you and Shand were waiting for it in the docking bay. You quickly became wrapped in in reassuring the former slaves that they were safe and helping them to disembark towards the med-bay, that you didn’t notice Boba’s personal ship land. Nor did you notice Shand slinking over to talk with him, with a pointed look in your direction.

It wasn’t until a few days later when Fett summoned you to his personal quarters that you even knew they had spoken of you.

Shand had found you in the med-bay, speaking with one of the former slaves who had proved to be incredibly stubborn about taking their medicine, and told you that Fett wanted to speak with you. Immediately your heart dropped, thinking you must have done something to annoy or upset the crime lord. As you followed Shand you felt a knot grow in your stomach, what had you done wrong? How would Fett punish you? You knew better than to ask, it would only bring more punishment. Finally Shand showed you into Fett’s private quarters. There was a large bed nestled against the far wall, and several sumptuous looking couches surrounding a low table where Fett was sat. What shocked you was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his amour. You hadn’t seen him without it before and you found yourself staring at his black robed body and scarred face.

“Come on in cyar’ika.” He said as he gestured to the couch opposite his. “It’s time for your lesson.”

You swallowed dryly, he was going to teach you a lesson. You must have done something that he didn’t want repeating. You sat stiffly on the couch with your head down, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Cyar’ika, you’re going to have to look at me for this.” Fett admonished lightly.

You nodded slightly before lifting your face to his, “Yes Sir, sorry Sir.”

Fett frowned at your words, and the obvious look of fear on your face.

“Why are you scared? Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

Your eyes darted about, trying to look anywhere but at him. But they snapped back to him when he let out a little chuckle.

“I’m sorry cyar’ika, I forget that you haven’t been free for all that long. You’re not here for punishment cyar’ika.”

Your confusion must have shown on your face as you saw Fett smile.

“No, no punishment. You’re here so I can teach you to read.”

Your jaw dropped. Read? There was no way you could learn how to read, your masters had always said that you were too stupid.

“But… but sir I…” your babbling was stopped by a raised hand from Fett.

“Don’t call me that. In here, when its just the two of us, it’s Boba. Understand?”

You nodded dumbly “Yes si.. Boba.”

And so began your nightly reading lessons with Boba Fett.

As it turned out your masters had been wrong about you, you weren’t stupid, not in the least. You learnt to read and write in Aurebesh, High Galactic, and Outer Rim Basic in less than three months. After you had mastered that, he began to teach you other languages too. Huttese, Jawa Trade, Twi’leki, and Bocce all flowed over your tongue. You loved to learn, and Boba was a great teacher. You came to hate the times he spent away from the palace, not just because you wouldn’t learn anything, but because you found yourself missing him. More than once you found yourself staring at the night sky from your window, hoping to see his distinctive ship descending from the stars.

When he wasn’t away you would look forward to your lesson time all day. No matter how busy you are, the thought of spending time alone with Boba always made you pause and smile. It occurred to you that it was because at night, in his chambers, as you both poured over flimsis and data-pads covered in foreign scrawl, you saw a side of him that no-one else did. With you he was soft, gentle, and patient. A total juxtaposition to the man that would sprawl on the throne and shoot someone if they bored him with their supplications. It was as if the man was a dichotomy of good and evil wrapped up in the scarred body of a man who had seen Death and said “Not today”.

You never did ask him about his scars. You had heard what had happened to him, falling into the sarlacc pit, from where nobody had returned before. But you felt it would be insensitive to ask. They didn’t bother you in any case. They were just a part of your Boba.

A little over a year after you had arrived at the palace you found yourself staring out of your window, searching the skies for Boba. He’d been gone for just over a week, and you had missed him terribly. Shand had kept you busy enough, helping recently freed slaves to plan what they were going to do next, but you felt unfulfilled in the evenings without your interactions with Boba. You were just about to give up and go to bed when you heard it, the distinctive low hum of Boba’s ship as it came in to land. A smile broke out over your face and you rushed out of your room. You caught up with him as he came to a stop outside his own rooms.

“Boba! You’re back!” you cried as you flung yourself at him.

His arms encircled you and crushed you against his armoured chest. You weren’t even bothered that his vambraces were digging into your back through your night clothes.

“Well this is a lovely surprise.” he chuckled “Have you been waiting up just to welcome me home cyar’ika?”

He set you back down and used his fingers to brush some hair behind your ear as you grinned up at him.

“Did you miss this old man?”

You scoffed and swatted at his chest plate. “You’re not old Boba. But I did miss you.”

With his helmet on you couldn’t read his expressions, but his hand was gentle against your face, and he seemed to relax more the longer that he stood there.

“I’ve asked for tea, will you join me?” he asked, bobbing his head to indicate his door. You nodded enthusiasticly and he took your hand to lead you into his rooms.

You sat on the couch you normally occupied during your lessons and tucked your legs under yourself as Boba disappeared into his private fresher. The tea was delivered while he was in there, the young Twi’lek smiling at you as she placed the tray on the table. There were two cups on the tray as well as a steaming pot of tea that you recognised as a Tusken blend that Boba liked. You knew it needed to brew for a little while so you left it alone and made yourself comfortable while you waited for Boba. He emerged a few minutes later, his armour over one arm, and his robes stripped to his waist. Your eyes bulged as you watched the muscles in his back and shoulders bunch as he draped his armour onto a stand hidden in the corner. You had never seen him in such a state of undress before. You let out an involuntary whimper and Boba turned slowly, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Everything alright, cyar’ika?” he asked as your eyes roved his very naked chest. He stalked slowly towards the couch, the slow movements showing off the strong muscles of his stocky frame. The scars ran all over his body and you longed to trace them with your fingertips, chase them with feather-light touches as they disappeared under his trousers. He rounded the end of your couch and sat, his legs spreading wide enough so his knee almost touched you despite him sitting at the far end of the couch. “Do you see something you like, little one?”

The pet name ignited a flame in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t known about before. At the very least you never acknowledged it before. Your mouth felt like the Dune Sea that lay just outside the walls, and you licked your lips in an attempt to alleviate the sudden dryness.

“You look a bit parched.” Boba teased, “let me pour you some tea.”

And he did. The strong and dangerous Boba Fett poured the tea, with a delicateness and grace that not many would associate with him. But you did. Because he had only ever been gentle with you. Even when you were shielding others from his blaster fire, he was gentle with you. Your hand shook as you took the cup offered by Boba and you steadied it quickly by pressing it to your lips and drinking. You concentrate on the tangy taste for a moment, trying to calm yourself. You take a subtle breath before carefully placing the cup on the table.

“Boba…” you begin, your nerve failing before the thought of what you want to say has fully formed.

“Yes, cyar’ika?” his eyes are on you, drinking in your face. Those beautiful dark eyes that speak to your soul of spaces between stars, and hold eternity in their depths. You want to stare into his eyes forever. But you can’t.

“What does cyar’ika mean?” you ask, your stomach knotting as you look down at the couch’s upholstery. You hear Boba give a little huff of a laugh.

“It’s Mando’a.” he explains, never missing an opportunity to teach you, “The language of my father. The suffix ‘ika means small, or little. And cyar comes from the word cyare, meaning beloved, or loved one. So in total cyar’ika would mean ‘little loved one’.”

He reaches over to gently lift your face with a single crooked finger.

“Or if you’re looking for a better word in Basic…” he continues, his eyes flicking momentarily to your lips before locking with your own eyes again, “… you might say, sweetheart.”

You don’t know who closed the gap, but suddenly his lips are pressed against yours. They are softer than you thought they’d be, but oh so talented. He tastes of spice, and the tangy tea you drank, and something dark and velvety that is purely him.

His hand spreads across you jaw, keeping your head gently cradled in his grip. As his tongue begs for gentle entrance between your lips, his free hand slides up your thigh, over your hip and rests at your waist. You part your lips and dart your tongue out to meet his. He moans softly and his grip at your waist tightens, pulling you towards him. Your breath catches and you swing one leg over to straddle him, your hands gliding up his chest to rest on his muscled shoulders. He groans, and you feel a sudden hardness underneath you. He pulls back slightly, your foreheads touching but not your lips.

“Fuck, cyar’ika. Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.” he says, his voice deep and sinful, “Tell me to stop and I will, right now. Because if you don’t I’m not going to be able to stop. Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want an old, broken man.”

Your eyes meet his and you see the pain in them, the crushing pain of a lifetime of toil and horror. But you also see the hope, the faint glimmer of wanting something more precious for himself. You take his face in your hands and press a deep kiss to his lips before you whisper “Boba, don’t you dare stop.”

His lips crash into yours, all power, and want, and teeth, and need. His hands slip under the loose tunic you wear to bed and roam up the bare skin of your back, his fingertips leaving a trail of shivers in their wake. You feel his hardness grow beneath you and it ignites a fire in your belly that sends aching heat between your thighs. You run your hands down his chest, nails catching on the scars that wind about him. He groans into your mouth and pushes you away enough that he can rip your tunic upwards and off you. As his eyes drink in you half naked form you see his pupils dilate, the eternal blacks at the centre overtaking the dark honeyed browns. Then his lips are on you again, dancing over your jaw and down your throat, teeth nipping gently at you skin in a way that elicits little gasps from you. His tongue runs down your breast until it circles your nipple and pulls it into the wet heat of his mouth. You moan and throw your head back at the electric jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s all you can do to cling to him and remain grounded.

But then Boba slides his hands under your ass and stands, lifting you with him. You wrap you legs around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck to kiss and nip and lick at him as he, seemingly without effort, carries you to the bed. His bed.

He lowers you to the bed gently, as if you would break if he moved too harshly. The sheets are cool and soft against your skin, a wonderful counterpoint to the heat that is Boba. His knees land between your thighs as he hovers over you, his hands braced either side of you.

“Mesh’la.” he whispers softly, reverentially, before dipping to join your lips again. You feel more of him now, the warm skin of his chest pressed against yours, his slightly rough hands as they skim up your arms and over your breasts, the strength of his thighs as they press against yours, the delicious hardness that rests near your core hidden behind his loose trousers.

“Boba…” you gasp through your pleasure filled haze. “Please… more…”

Boba growls, a low primal sound that makes your core ache with wanton heat. Then his hands are pulling down the soft linen trousers that you wear to bed, exposing your wet cunt to him. Once your trousers have slipped off your feet he begins to kiss his way back along your legs, leaving a trail of wet fire behind his lips. When he finally reaches the apex of your thighs he groans.

“So wet for me cyar’ika.” he presses a soft kiss on your outer lips which makes you gasp. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.” he moans before pressing more kisses to your heated core.

“Then… why didn’t you…” you pant out, unable to complete your thought with the jolts of pleasure Boba’s kisses to your cunt are causing.

“Didn’t want to scare you off cyar’ika.” he says between kisses. “Didn’t want you to think I was only after you for… this…” he flattens his tongue against you and licks a single slow stripe up your slit, making you groan. “I want more than just this with you, cyar’ika.”

You push yourself up on your elbows and look down your body to where Boba rests between your legs. Your eyes meet his and you smile softly. “You’ve given me more than I ever thought I would have, Boba.” You reach out your hand to cradle his scarred face. “But I want more. And I want it all with you.”

You feel a tension leave Boba as he presses a kiss to your palm. Then his lips are once again on your cunt, his tongue dipping between your folds to taste your slick. Then something harder presses into you, his finger you realise. He slides it in deep as his tongue flicks over your clit. You throw your head back and let out a moan of pleasure. Boba pulls his finger back and you whine with the loss, but it cuts off when he presses a second finger in along with the first. You feel his fingers circle inside you, spreading your slick and stretching you slightly. All the while his tongue and teeth play over your clit, nipping gently and then soothing the ache with little licks. Soon you’re a writhing mess under Boba’s ministrations. He pushes in a third finger and you feel his mouth pull back from you.

“Come on cyar’ika. Cum for me. Give me one before I fuck you. Want to see you come undone on my fingers.”

His dirty talk and the fullness of having three of his fingers inside you tips you over the edge and your orgasm washes over you. You hear his voice, but can’t make out what he is saying. As you come down from your high you squirm against his fingers, feeling overstimulated as he rocks them inside you.

“Good girl.” he murmurs as he slowly withdraws them. You lay there trying to catch your breath and watch as Boba raises his fingers to his mouth and sucks your slick off them.

“You taste so good cyar’ika. The sweetest nectar in the galaxy.”

You grin and flush slightly at his words, still trying to calm your breathing.

“Boba?” you pant.

“Yes, cyar’ika?”

“You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Boba chuckles and moves back off the bed. You raise your head to watch him as he loosens his belt and lets his trousers fall. Your eyes rake down his naked body, taking in the sculpted muscles, the faint scars of his years as a bounty hunter, and the more obvious scars left by the sarlacc. Then your eyes land on his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s not overly long, still longer than any partner you’d had before, but the girth is what surprises you. You doubt you’d be able to close your fingers around him. He takes himself in hand and slowly drags his hand up and down his length.

“Think you’re ready for me cyar’ika?” he asks with a grin. You start to breathe again – when had you stopped? You nod enthusiasticly, you eyes locked onto Boba’s.

He lets himself go and begins to crawl up your body, dotting kisses here and there until he seats himself between your legs. He leans down and kisses you.

“If you need me to stop, just say something, okay cyar’ika?”

You nod and kiss him back as he manoeuvres your legs onto his hips. He takes himself in hand again and runs his cock through the slick that coats your cunt, using his hand to move it all over himself. Then there’s a dull pressure at your entrance, followed by a delightful stretching sensation as he slides into you. You groan as your head falls back, eyes closing in bliss.

“Kriff… Boba…” you moan. He stops. Your head snaps up to see a look of worry on his face. You slide your hands behind his head and pull him down into a searing kiss. “Boba… more, please…” you whisper as your lips part. He moans and drops his head to your shoulder as he pushes further into you. Finally he is fully seated inside you. The stretch is just on the painful side of pleasure, and he pauses to let you adjust.

“Still with me mesh’la?” he asks, his voice low in your ear. You wiggle a little and grin as he groans.

“Boba. Move.” you plead. You feel his breath heavy against your neck before he presses a kiss on your flushed skin. He draws slowly back and you are preparing to whine when his hips snap sharply forward. You gasp as he begins a slow but deep pace, all the while kissing at your shoulder and neck.

“So tight for me mesh’la.” he murmurs, “So warm, and soft.”

You fling your arms around his shoulders, running your short nails across his hairless scalp. He moans deeply at that and pulls himself back from you. He’s still thrusting with gentle circles of his hips as he draws his legs up underneath him, sits back on his heels, and throws you the biggest smirk. His hands tighten on your hips and you are about to say something when he starts pounding into you. The new angle and speed mean he is hitting something inside you that you’ve never felt before. Each thrust sends a bolt of pure electric pleasure through your body and you soon find yourself on the crest of another orgasm.

“Boba…” you moan. “I’m gonna… I’m…”

“Cum for me mesh’la.” he grunts, a hand leaving one of your hips to seek out your clit. “Cum all over my cock. Let all the galaxy know who’s fucking you.”

You scream his name as your second orgasm blasts through you. You feel the cool sheets bunched in your hands, Boba’s powerful thighs underneath yours, you are vaguely aware of his voice but it is drowned out by the blood pounding in your ears.

“Come back to me cyar’ika.”

You feel almost boneless. Floaty. Your eyes find his and he smiles.

“There you are.” he says softly, a finger tracing the side of your face. “Thought I’d lost you there for a second.”

You shake your head as your breathing finally comes back under your control.

“Not a chance.” you grin at him.

“Good.” he says “Because I want you to ride me.”

Your eyes light up and you nod enthusiasticly. You’d only done this once or twice before, and you had enjoyed it, but you’d always been made to change positions before anything came to fruition.

Boba pulls out of you with a groan and there is a scramble of tangled limbs to get him on his back with you positioned over him. You take him in your hand and guide your heat to him. He lets out a string of curses as you slowly lower yourself until he is completely sheathed within you.

“Karking hells.” you moan, feeling him even deeper than before. In an effort to adjust faster you flex your inner muscles. Boba grunts when you do, his head falling back, and you grin. You begin to circle your hips slowly, squeezing his cock inside you every time you complete a full rotation. His hands rest on your thighs, squeezing hard enough to leave faint fingertip bruises.

“Fuck, cyar’ika, you’ll be the death of me.” he manages to groan, and you smile.

“I hope not.” you respond as you grind down onto him.

He sits up, pulling you flush to his chest, and begins to thrust up into you. You hold onto his shoulders as his speed increases, trying to keep your hips circling and your inner muscles clenching around him. Once more he slides a hand in between your bodies to rub at you clit.

“Cum for me mesh’la. Cum for your King.”

You feel yourself readily approaching the precipice and you try to grind down harder on Boba in order to fling yourself over it.

“Kriff.” you hear Boba moan, “I’m gonna cum mesh’la, where do you…”

“Inside…” you gasp, “Implant…”

“Cum with me mesh’la. Cum with your King.”

You feel him twitch and you cum hard. A liquid heat fills your belly as you clench down on Boba’s cock. You scream his name. He growls out yours.

And then you both collapse onto the bed.

It takes several minutes for either of you to garner enough energy to move. Instead you just stare at each other, completely love drunk and fucked out. Boba is the first to move.

“Just wait right there cyar’ika.” he whispers to you before heading to his fresher. He returns a moment later with a damp wash cloth and gently persuades you to let him clean you up. The wash cloth is cool against your tender cunt, but once he’s done he lays a soft kiss there before climbing up the bed to curl up behind you. You lay in his arms in blissful silence for a few minutes, allowing your body to relax.

“Boba?” you whisper. He hums into your hair as response.

“If you’re the King…” you trail off, trying to phrase your question right.

“Yes…”

“Does… does this make me your Queen?”

He sits up slightly to look down at you, a slight smile playing on his face.

“Do you want to be my Queen?”

You bite your lip as you think.

“Only if your cock is my throne.” you say cheekily.

Boba tips his head back and laughs, a deep sound that fills your heart, before leaning down to press his forehead to yours.

“If that’s what you want cyar’ika, then you’re my Queen.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that lovelies!!!
> 
> Mando'a translations  
> Shabuir - jerk, but A LOT stronger  
> Mesh'la - beautiful


End file.
